The Man I Helped Tried to Bury My Child Alive

I brought my husband, Victor Boone, back from the disaster zone and sent the girl I’d raised for six years to become a trainee. That was when he, who had always been cold and restrained, finally snapped.

He took our infant son to the desert’s noman’sland. “Tell me where Keith Warner is, or I’ll bury him alive.”

“There are five mounds of sand here. You have five chances.”

Victor placed our son into a shallow pit. The scorching sand instantly seared his delicate skin, and he cried out in pain.

My heart felt as if it had been thrown into boiling oil.

Before I could even beg, he began to shovel sand onto our son.

The first pile—my mind flashed back to little Victor glaring at me: “You’re the orphan my mom adopted? Don’t think living in my house makes you worthy of being my child bride.”

The second—when I was eighteen and had plans to study in Rivergate City, Victor had banged on my door, redeyed, holding me tightly: “I won’t let you leave. I won’t let you go to Rivergate City.”

The third—on my 20th birthday, Victor proposed to me. “Claire Whitmore, you mean more to me than life itself.”

The fourth—he’d been caught in an earthquake while away on business. When he returned after six months, Vanessa Bright was with him.

From then on, Victor would silently slip from our bed at night to go to hers.

At first, they truly just slept.

Until one day, his body carried the lingering scent of roses—her scent—for three full days.

That’s when I knew everything had changed.

Our son’s cries weakened into strained, choking sobs.

I begged, “He’s your son, too!”

Victor’s face didn’t flinch. “Without Keith, what use do I have for a son?”

As my baby was nearly buried alive, I had no choice but to yield.

I told him where she was.

Without a word, Victor ran to Keith Warner—never looking back.

When I pulled my son from beneath the blistering sand, his tiny body was limp, his cries fading to faint groans.

I called for an ambulance, then dialed another number.

“I’ll join the organization. I’m leaving with my child in a week.”

...

The man who once bought a hundred stars for our son, Ethan Boone, the day he was born…

He’d said then, “Every year on his birthday, he’ll be named after a star. Our son will live a hundred years.”

But now, for Vanessa Bright, he was willing to bury that same child—barely a hundred days old—alive.

I tried to explain, desperate, “She wanted to go. It was her dream!”

“No,” Victor murmured, his eyes briefly softening. “Her dream… is that I sleep soundly.”

“So she’ll never leave me.”

Staring at his deranged expression, I knew—once again—I had no choice but to surrender.

After Victor left, the ambulance rushed us to the hospital.

Ethan’s life wasn’t in immediate danger, but large portions of his skin had been burned and badly infected.

I held him in the hospital bed. His body was feverish, curled tightly, whimpering even in his sleep.

My phone buzzed. A message from Victor.

[I’ve arranged the best doctor. Ethan will recover. I’ll bring Keith back later. As long as you don’t embarrass her, you’ll still be my wife.]

I stared at the screen, my fingertips trembling.

Becoming Victor’s wife had been my dream since I was a teenager.

When I was adopted by the Boone family, he hated me. Cold and aloof, he rarely spoke. But whenever I was bullied at school, he’d appear—fists flying—leaving himself battered to defend me.

When I turned eighteen, he begged me not to leave, cornered me against the wall, and kissed me.

My face burned under his kiss, and when I was gasping for air, he whispered into my ear, “Claire, I fell in love with you the moment I saw you.”

“I just didn’t have the courage to admit it.”

On my birthday that year, he lit fireworks across 18 city landmarks, turning the whole night sky into a spectacle just for me.

When he proposed, he bought me a private island—made me feel like the most cherished woman under the stars.

“Claire, you are more important than my life.”

Back then, I thought that happiness would last forever.

But it only lasted until the end of our honeymoon.

Victor went on a business trip and got caught in an earthquake. He was trapped for 99 hours—starving, weak, surrounded by death. And in that moment of darkness, it was Vanessa Bright’s rosescented presence he clung to.

Her parents shielded a small space with their bodies, saving only water for the two of them—sacrificing their lives to ensure their children survived.

Before dying, they entrusted Vanessa Bright to Victor.

Six months later, he brought her home.

I never imagined that this socalled debt of gratitude would become a lifelong torment for me.

I kissed the corner of my son’s eye. “I’m sorry, baby. Mama let you suffer.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t let anyone hurt you again.”

I unblocked contact.

“I’ll join the organization. But I have one condition—I’m taking my child with me.”

The voice on the other end was low and amusing. “Your child… he’s just a few months old, right?”

The caller went by the codename Ferryman—leader of a toptier global hacker syndicate. Once inside, your former identity is erased.

Exactly what I needed.

I said, “You’re wellconnected. I want to leave in a week. Can you make that happen?”

“Of course,” he replied, a low chuckle in his voice. “In a week, the Ferryman will personally ferry you.”

Two days later, Ethan’s fever finally subsided, and I brought him home.

Before leaving, I wanted to personally erase every trace of myself from this house.

I had carefully preserved everything Victor gave me—our souvenirs, memories of a time I once cherished. Now, they were easy to pack away.

I only kept my computer, a few sets of clothes, and Ethan’s baby essentials. Everything else, I boxed up and asked property management to collect.

Ethan played quietly on the sofa, his tiny hands probing the gaps between the cushions. With a proud giggle, he held up his “trophy.”

It was Victor’s ring.

Our wedding ring—the one that witnessed our vows and symbolized our promises.

Now, it lay forgotten in the crack of a sofa. Seeing it again, my mind flooded with memories of this shattered marriage.

When I first heard Victor was caught in the earthquake, I nearly miscarried from the shock.

At the time, with his life hanging in balance, I did everything I could to protect our baby.

Six months later, Victor came home. That very day, our child was lost.

I had simply reached out to pat Vanessa Bright’s head, to welcome her into our home as family.

But she suddenly snapped—violently slamming her arms into my belly and shoving me to the ground.

The child I had fought so hard to save was gone, just like that.

Victor said she had posttraumatic stress,and told me not to blame her—blame him instead.

But he had just escaped death. How could I bring myself to blame him?

So in the end, I swallowed the grief alone.

After that, Victor treated me better—twice as attentive, even.

But I still noticed the changes in him.

At first, he would wake in the night from nightmares—the earthquake haunting his sleep.

Later, once I was asleep, he’d quietly slip into Vanessa Bright’s room.

Only her scent in the darkness could bring him rest. He’d fall asleep beside her and return to me before dawn.

Eventually, he stopped hiding it. He stayed out all night. Even when I caught him coming out of her room in the morning, he’d greet me with a calm, “Good morning. Is breakfast ready?”

I pitied him for the trauma he endured. And since I knew—at first—they were really just sleeping, I tolerated it all.

Until one day, Victor came home with the scent of roses on him.

The scent lingered for three days. Even though he stayed in our bed those nights, it clung to him.

Vanessa Bright had grown up, and everything between them had changed.

He would take the wildflowers she picked from the roadside and turn them into everlasting bouquets—while tossing the lilies I’d bought for our home into the trash, just because they masked her rose scent.

He’d keep me tending the stove for ten hours to make tonic soup, only to dump it out because she didn’t like it, even though it was brewed for him.

He’d leave me alone on our anniversary just to stay by her side, worried she might feel lonely.

The dream was broken, and it was time to wake up.

The person who meant more to Victor than his life... was no longer me. It was his little rose.

I didn’t care anymore. In five days, I would vanish from his world without a trace.

A knock came at the door. I assumed it was the property staff, but when I opened it, it was Victor.

His face was dark, as if he had come to confront me about something.

But then his eyes fell on the items I had sorted on the floor, and he froze.

“You’re... throwing these away?” He picked up a cup. “Isn’t this your favorite? You use it every day.”

His confusion pierced me like a knife.

It had been a matching set of couple mugs, custommade by the two of us. But because Vanessa Bright liked it, Victor had given her his.

The next day, her cup shattered. After that, I never used mine again.

It had been a full year. And he never even noticed.

“It’s useless now, so I’m tossing it,” I said calmly, then changed the subject. “Did Vanessa Bright find it?”

Victor’s voice turned icy. “You still have the nerve to bring up Vanessa?”

He looked at me—eyes full of loathing.

When Vanessa Bright walked in, I almost didn’t recognize her.

Just five days ago, she was as radiant as a blooming flower. Now, her cheeks were swollen, the corners of her mouth cracked, and bruises mottled her exposed wrists—so severe they were horrifying to look at.

“Claire!” She dropped to her knees the moment she saw me, the dull thud of bone against the floor echoing sharply. “Please let me go. I can’t take it anymore!”

Instinctively, I stepped back. “What are you talking about?”

“They make you train day and night. You’re not even allowed to eat!” She lifted her skirt, revealing dark scars on her waist. “I fainted from hunger and exhaustion. They whipped me awake with a leather strap!”

“That’s impossible!” I blurted out. Before agreeing to send her there, I had thoroughly vetted the company—they had no record of mistreating trainees.

Vanessa Bright’s tears splashed onto the floor. “It’s true! Please don’t make me go back. I can’t be a trainee anymore!”

A chill ran through me. “What do you mean I’m forcing you? You told me it was your dream. You begged me to help you!”

“I never had a dream. I just wanted to stay by Victor’s side.”

Then she turned to Victor with a heartbreaking expression. “Victor, training is too hard. I really can’t handle it. Can I stay with you instead? I promise I’ll be good.”

Victor reached out, gently patting her head and helping her up.

When he turned to me, his gaze was as cold as a blade of ice. “Why did you force her?”

“I didn’t!” I protested, my voice trembling. “She begged me to go! I investigated that company—they don’t treat people like that. There must be some kind of misunderstanding—”

“Look at her injuries,” Victor cut in, his brow furrowed. “What misunderstanding could explain this?”

“Since you refuse to admit it, then you should experience the same suffering Vanessa did. Think of it as penance.”

I tried to speak, but he was already dragging me to the storage room. His grip was so tight on my wrist that I felt the bruise forming instantly.

He called Vanessa Bright over and told her to bring Ethan.

Victor had always been gentle with our son. So when Ethan saw him, he giggled, stretched out his little arms, and nestled against him, seeking affection.

But Victor didn’t respond. With a cold expression, he peeled the child from his neck and shoved him into my arms.

“Vanessa was beaten. I won’t lay a hand on you—but your son will suffer with you instead.”

“Victor!” I clung to his arm. “I swear, I didn’t do anything! We can check the cameras—call the police!”

“So now you’re saying Vanessa is lying?” Victor’s voice dropped, trying to stay calm. “Who would do this to themselves just to frame someone?”

“I’ve raised Vanessa for six years. I know her—she’s gentle, kind, pure.”

“But you...” His eyes turned colder than ever. I felt like a stranger under his gaze. “Claire, when did you become so cruel? You would even harm a little girl?”

It felt like my soul was being dragged into a frozen abyss.

We had known each other for sixteen years. We shared a bed for six.

Yet all it took was Vanessa Bright’s tears to erase everything.

The storage room door slammed shut, plunging us into darkness. Ethan’s cries filled the air, loud and desperate.

The hot, dusty air choked us. My baby, still recovering from illness, thrashed restlessly in my arms. His cries turned from sharp wails to broken, hoarse sobs.

“Victor! Open the door! He’s burning up again!” I pounded the door with all my strength, my palms going numb. “He was just released from the hospital! His wounds haven’t healed! He’ll die in here!”

“Victor, punish me—hit me if you want! But save Ethan!”

“He’s your son, too! I’m begging you!”

Silence.

Only silence.

I slid down to the floor, my body trembling. It felt as if my heart had been carved out of my chest while I was still alive.

Ethan’s cries began to fade. His breath grew shallow.

“Ethan! Don’t fall asleep!” I slapped his cheek gently. “Baby, look at Mommy!”

His lips parted slightly, making a faint sound, but his eyes never opened.

“Ethan!”

Vanessa Bright suddenly pushed the door open.

I froze, then rushed to her. “Vanessa Bright, please! Call Doctor Ethan! He needs fever medicine!”

She was my only hope. For Ethan’s sake, I could beg—even if she was the reason we were locked in here.

A faint, unreadable smile curled on Vanessa Bright’s lips. She opened her hand. “You mean this?”

“Yes! That’s it! Thank you!” I reached out, but just as I was about to take it, she flipped her hand—and the pill fell to the floor.

I scrambled to pick it up, but she pressed her foot down and ground it onto the floor.

“I thought he’d die in the desert. He’s really lucky.”

I stared blankly at the crushed white powder.

Vanessa Bright pinched my chin and leaned close. “Claire, listen to me. Victor and I are bound by life and death. We’re fated.”

“Do you know what he said when he held me? He said he couldn’t sleep next to you. Only my scent gives him peace.”

I bit my lip hard, trying to contain the wave of pain in my chest. I remembered clearly—after our first night together, Victor held me close and whispered, ‘I can’t sleep without your scent anymore.’

“He doesn’t love you, Claire.” Vanessa Bright’s voice was soft, but every word cut deep.

“Why couldn’t you just let go? Why give birth to a child just to trap Victor?”

My entire body got cold. I hugged Ethan tighter and asked slowly, “Did you do all this on purpose—just to take Victor from me?”

“Not entirely,” Vanessa Bright tilted her head, smiling sweetly as she spoke with venom. “I also wanted to watch you suffer.”

“You and I are both orphans. So why did you get adopted by the Boone family and marry Victor, while I had to trail behind without a name or title?”

I said, “Victor mentioned adopting you. It was you who—”

“Who wants to be his adopted daughter?!” She screamed, cutting me off. “I’m his destined one! His wife!”

Her fingers slid across my belly and jabbed at Ethan’s flushed cheek. “When your baby died back then, I was thrilled.”

My pupils contracted.

She continued calmly, “Victor protected me. Even though I killed his child, he still protected me.”

“That’s when I knew—he belonged to me.”

Her nails dug into Ethan’s cheek, making him cry out in pain.

I grabbed her wrist. “Don’t touch my child!”

Suddenly, Vanessa Bright stumbled back with a gasp of fear.

“Ah—!” Her forehead slammed into the door handle, and blood poured down her face.

“Vanessa!” Victor rushed in and immediately wrapped her in his arms, trying to stop the bleeding. “Housekeeper, call a doctor!”

Vanessa Bright leaned limply into his chest. “Victor, I’m okay. Ethan has a fever—let the doctor check him first.”

Then she looked at me with watery eyes. “I just wanted to give him medicine… Why did you push me?”

Tears mixed with blood slid down her face.

Victor’s gaze filled with anguish. He turned to me, voice low and cold. “Claire, why can’t you be more tolerant?”

“She fell on her own!” I pointed to the crushed powder. “She even destroyed Ethan’s medicine!”

His eyes dropped to the floor, and for a moment, I saw hesitation flicker across his face.

He knew how much I longed for Ethan. I had waited six years to become a mother—he knew I would never risk my son’s life.

A sliver of hope rose in me. “Victor, Ethan’s fever—”

Before I could finish, Vanessa Bright burst into tears. “It’s my sister! She said Ethan would rather die than take my medicine! Victor, please help him—he’s really sick!”

Victor gently caressed her face. “Even like this, you’re still thinking of him.”

Then he stood and approached me.

I will never forget the way he looked at me in that moment.

“Claire,” he said, his voice soft but sharp, “I never imagined your jealousy would blind you to your own child’s suffering.”

He held out his hand. There was no anger in his tone—only calm finality.

“Give me Ethan.”

I instinctively held the child tighter. “What are you trying to do?”

“How can I be at ease letting Ethan stay with you in your condition?”

“No!” I staggered back. “He’s my son! I won’t be separated from him!”

Victor’s gaze turned icecold as he forcefully pulled Ethan from my arms. The child wailed again, his cries piercing.

“Give him back to me!” I lunged forward, but he kicked me away. My waist slammed into the sharp corner of the cabinet, and a low cry of pain escaped my lips.

Victor hesitated for a moment, his back stiffening, but he never turned around. He helped Vanessa Bright up and left—carrying my son.

The door shut behind them. Before the last sliver of light vanished, I was consumed by darkness.

When I regained consciousness, everything was bathed in stark white.

It was the bedroom ceiling. I turned my head and saw Victor asleep beside the bed. He stirred the moment I moved, and his fingers lightly brushed my cheek. “You’re awake. Do you feel unwell?”

“I…” My throat was dry and raspy, barely able to form words.

Victor quickly held a cup to my lips. “You’ve been unconscious for a whole day and night. Why didn’t you tell me you had hypoglycemia? Do you know how scared I was when you collapsed?”

His worry and concern looked sincere—so much so that, for a fleeting second, I almost forgot he had locked me and our child in that storage room.

That gentleness nearly deceived me. Almost.

One day and one night. That meant in just four more days, I could finally leave him.

I struggled to sit up. “Where’s Ethan?”

He gently pushed me back down. “Don’t worry, Vanessa’s looking after him.”

“What?” My heart clenched. I instantly pushed him away and got out of bed.

The moment my feet hit the floor, Victor grabbed my wrist and threw me back down.

“What are you doing?” He shut his eyes, clearly trying to restrain his anger. “Claire, you need to rest now.”

Fear and fury surged through me. “You left my child with Vanessa Bright—how do you expect me to rest?”

“Claire!” Victor’s rage erupted. He paced beside the bed several times before finally snapping, “Why are you so hostile toward Vanessa? Didn’t you two used to get along?”

“Yes,” I laughed bitterly, “I once treated her like a sister. But what did she do? Have you ever asked? Have you bothered to find out?”

“You—”

A woman’s scream and a baby’s cry suddenly rang out from the next room.

I shoved Victor aside and rushed to the nursery. The sight before me turned my blood to ice.

Ethan was lying on his back in the crib, face flushed red, his tiny body convulsing with harsh coughs. Vomited milk stained his cheeks, his chest, and the sheets.

Vanessa Bright stood to the side, wiping her clothes with a baby wipe, her face twisted in frustration.

I hurriedly scooped up Ethan, patting his back anxiously. As I drew closer, I saw red rashes blooming across his forehead and chest.

Victor was the first to turn to Vanessa Bright. “How did this happen?”

I demanded, “Vanessa Bright, what did you give him?”

She shook her head. “Nothing, I just fed him milk formula.”

Victor wrapped her protectively in his arms. “Why are you blaming her? She’s still just a child!”

I stared at him in disbelief. “Yet you still trusted her to care for Ethan? Did you even check if he had allergies? Did you even look at him when you came in?”

“Enough!” Victor suddenly roared, “Vanessa did her best to care for him. And you? You’re always finding faults!”

“Claire, your jealousy and bitterness right now—it honestly disgusts me!”

I was stunned.

Disgusting?

"No," I shook my head with a bitter smile. "Victor, you are the one who makes me sick."

"Don't argue," Vanessa Bright cut in, her voice choked with sobs. "It's my fault. Sister has every right to blame me."

Victor immediately stood in front of her, shielding her, his eyes now filled with even deeper disappointment. "Look at Vanessa. Doesn’t that make you feel ashamed?"

Suddenly, I wanted to ask him something.

"Do you remember what you said to me when you proposed?"

Victor’s face went blank for a moment.

That moment made everything feel absurd. I shook my head and gave a small, selfmocking laugh. “You said I was more important than your life.”

He averted his gaze. “But you weren’t like this back then.”

“So, you changed your mind?”

“I didn’t!” His voice rose sharply, as if trying to convince himself. “Claire, of course I love you, but Vanessa’s parents saved my life, and I promised them…”

“Enough.” I turned around with Ethan in my arms. “It’s been six years. I’ve heard enough.”

At the hospital, the doctor’s expression turned grim.

"What were your parents thinking? Even if a child this young isn’t allergic to seafood, you can’t crush shrimp and mix it with milk! If you'd arrived a minute later, the child might not have made it!”

My head spun. “Shrimp?”

The doctor heard my tone and sighed. “Find a new nanny immediately. I doubt that woman has good intentions.”

Vanessa Bright.

My legs buckled as I sat down, gasping for breath.

I had almost lost Ethan.

I struggled to keep my voice steady. “Can you give me a copy of the test report?”

After getting home, I typed up the divorce agreement. In the living room, Victor hovered nervously around Vanessa Bright. “Your injury hasn’t healed yet, don’t push yourself.”

Vanessa Bright smiled as she waved a shovel. “I’m just loosening the soil around the tree. I’m fine.”

"That’s the intertwined tree you planted for me. I want it to grow strong. That way, even if I can’t stay by your side, I’ll still have it.”

Victor held her shoulders. “Don’t say that! I planted that tree for you—it means we’ll be together forever. Don’t you believe me?”

My mind went blank. A sharp ache gripped my chest.

There was a seedling growing in the best part of the garden.

Not long ago, a tree had stood there—Albizia Julibrissin—which we planted the day we got our marriage certificate. It symbolized “eternal love.”

After Ethan was born, Victor said he wanted to plant a tree for him in that spot, hoping he'd grow strong like it—so he moved the Albizia away.

It turns out that was a lie.

What he wanted wasn’t eternal love with me or a healthy future for our child.

He wanted to be with Vanessa Bright.

I drew in a deep breath, walked over, and flipped to the signature page of the divorce agreement. “I want to get an insurance policy for Ethan. Sign this.”

“Why are you here?” Victor cleared his throat awkwardly. “Don’t you already have insurance? Why get another?”

He reached for the document to read it.

Just as I moved to stop him, Vanessa Bright tugged at his sleeve. “Victor, you two go ahead—I’ll wait outside.”

“Wait, I’ll come with you.”

“No need!”

Victor shoved the agreement into my hands. “Leave it in the study. I’ll sign it after I’ve read it.”

I grabbed his wrist. “I’ve read it already. Just sign it.”

He frowned, glanced nervously at Vanessa Bright, who had already opened the door.

Then he quickly scribbled his signature and ran toward her without another word.

“That’s it.”

I stood there in a daze. Just like that, our sixyear marriage came to an end—so casually, so disgracefully.

I walked into the baby’s room and kissed Ethan on the forehead.

“Baby, we’re free now.”

That night, I slept in the baby’s room while Victor stayed in Vanessa Bright’s.

On the first night after signing the divorce papers, we silently completed our separation.

In the following days, I finalized the divorce procedures and sorted out my shares and assets.

Victor still spent time with Ethan and me each day, but at night, he would return to Vanessa Bright’s bed.

He held Ethan, patting her back to burp her while talking to himself, “Once she gets better, we’ll take a family photo.”

“How about we take one every year from now on?”

I forced a smile. Not a great idea—I'm leaving tomorrow.

Victor, there is no future for us.

The night before I left, I took Ethan to the master bedroom.

Now, the only trace of me left in this house was the wedding photo on the wall.

“Sister, are you still awake?”

The familiar scent of roses drifted in. I tensed. “What are you doing here?”

Vanessa Bright stepped in holding a lit aromatherapy candle. “Victor gave me a set of these today. The scent is Albizzia—he thought you’d like it since I don’t.”

My hands quietly clenched into fists.

In the past, Victor gave me everything I liked.

When did I become someone who only got leftovers from Vanessa Bright?

Vanessa Bright smiled, but her expression was wicked. “Do you know what happened to the Albizzia tree in the garden?”

I shook my head. It didn’t matter—it had already made way for their ‘love tree.’

“Burned to ashes,” she whispered like a demon. “I saw Victor set fire to it himself.”

I told myself it didn’t matter. But my heart still ached.

Seeing that I didn’t react, Vanessa Bright dropped her smile. She stared at me for a while, then flicked her hand.

The candle hit the curtain—and flames erupted.

“What are you doing?”

She shut the door behind her, madness flashing in her eyes. “Tell me, who do you think Victor will save?”

Then she twisted her face into horror and shoved me hard.

“Claire! What are you doing?! Victor, help me!”

The flames rushed toward us. I turned my back on them, shielding Ethan.

Pain tore through me instantly.

“Ah…” I gritted my teeth and rolled on the floor to douse the flames. The pain drained all my strength.

Smoke thickened fast. Victor kicked the door open and saw Vanessa Bright first.

“Vanessa! Get up!”

“My legs… Victor, they hurt so much!” she sobbed.

“Come here, I’ve got you!”

“Victor…” I rasped, “Please… help me, and take Ethan…”

“Claire!” He finally saw me, and froze when he noticed my burned back.

“Don’t be afraid! I’ll take you to the hospital—there won’t be a scar!”

“Cough, cough… Victor…”

Vanessa Bright’s coughing jolted him.

He pulled his hand back from mine.

“There’s too much smoke. Vanessa’s throat can’t take it, Claire…”

“Victor!” I used the last of my strength to grab his hand. “Take Ethan out first! Please!”

“Victor… cough… cough…”

The panic in his eyes turned to resolve.

He yanked his hand away and turned around without hesitation.

“Claire, hang on! I’ll call someone to come get you!”

“Victor!”

The flames rose like a wall, drawing a hard line between us.

Vanessa Bright’s throat mattered more than my life or our child’s.

I should’ve known.

Clutching Ethan close, I whispered through tears, “I’m sorry, sweetheart… I failed you again.”

Just as all hope faded, the window shattered.

A tall figure stepped through the flames.

“Midnight,” the ferryman said, reaching a hand toward me. “Looks like I arrived just in time.”

From the helicopter, I watched the fire devour the wedding photo.

Now, every last trace of me in that house was gone.

Victor, we will never meet again.